A Scene Of Artful Negotiations
by Red Witch
Summary: It's a skill getting any money and hours at all being a detective at the Figgis Agency.


**For some reason the disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters is negotiating a pay raise. There's an actual 50-50 chance that when Archer finally wakes up from his coma, the Figgis Agency could not only still be around, the others would have become fully licensed detectives.**

 **Of course, there's an equal chance that the Figgis Agency will be completely totaled knowing these idiots. But until we do it's up in the air.**

 **This is just one way they could make hours and money from my tiny imagination. Ties into the stories The LA Business Expo Incident and The Blame Game.**

 **We pick up shortly after The Blame Game and enter…**

 **A Scene Of Artful Negotiations**

"Now listen Missy," Mallory growled at Cheryl as she shoved her into Cyril's desk chair in his office. " **Nobody** steals from Mallory Archer!" The rest of the Figgis Agency had followed them into Cyril's office.

"Except maybe Flim-Flam Freddy," Pam spoke up. "Archer. The KGB. Some of our former employees who disappeared. A lot of your past boyfriends including Len Trexler and Nicholai Jackov. The CIA. Several former clients…"

"SHUT UP!" Mallory roared at Pam.

"What?" Pam asked. "I'm just saying a lot of people have stolen from you over the years. It can't be **that** big a shock Cheryl stole your money!"

"It is considering Carol has the brains of a stuffed pepper!" Mallory snapped. "How would she even know my password in the first place?"

"Your password has been Duchess for like, forever," Cheryl said. "How would I **not?** "

"I keep telling you to change it," Lana said to Mallory.

"And I keep telling you to shut up!" Mallory snapped.

"That's hurtful you know?" Pam told Mallory.

"Not as hurtful as a bullet to the knees!" Mallory snapped. She turned to Cheryl. "And as for you, I know you stole money from me from some of my private accounts!"

"I don't remember doing that!" Cheryl asked.

"Tell us about your music career as a country music singer," Cyril remarked.

"I was **what again**?" Cheryl blinked.

"How about telling us what you remember about **yesterday**?" Cyril added.

"Uhhh…" Cheryl blinked. "I know I had some gummy bears…"

"You've made your point," Mallory admitted to Cyril. "Now pay me the money you owe me!"

"How much is it again?" Cheryl blinked.

"Fifty thousand dollars," Mallory growled. "And I want the check **now** so I can deposit it immediately in a bank!"

"I don't owe you…URK!" Cheryl gasped as Mallory grabbed her by the throat.

"You were **saying?"** Mallory growled.

"OK…" Cheryl choked out as she started to write in her checkbook.

"And another fifty for the agency," Cyril said quickly. Mallory looked at Cyril. "Oh, unless you want to use **your check** to keep the lights on?"

"Fair enough," Mallory shrugged. "Make that two checks Carol!"

"All right…" Cheryl gasped as Mallory let her go. "Fine! Jesus! I need my checkbook!"

"Right here!" Mallory took it out and shoved it in front of her.

"You went through my pocketbook?" Cheryl asked.

"You went through **mine** not even ten minutes ago!" Mallory shouted.

"Fair enough," Cheryl shrugged as she started to write the checks. "Wait did I really take fifty thousand dollars from Ms. Archer?"

"Let's just say I rounded up," Mallory told her. "Especially since I probably need some kind of shot to ward off whatever virus I picked up looking through your pocketbook. I would have thought Pam would win an award for Stickiest Mess but you can give her a run for her money!"

"It smelled funny too," Lana realized. "What was in there?"

"Some kind of liquid," Mallory shuddered. "Smelled a bit like grape juice. And cinnamon."

"Oh, that's probably my cinnamon flavored bourbon," Cheryl explained. "And my grape flavored vodka. They probably leaked."

"Those are **things?** " Mallory recoiled in horror.

"Usually with the college crowd," Ray told her.

"Who would ruin perfectly good alcohol with _artificial flavors_?" Mallory shuddered.

"I'm with you on that one," Ray admitted. "Disgusting."

"And considering what you put in **your mouth** …" Mallory quipped. "That's saying something."

Ray gave her a look. "Ditto."

"Okay here are your stupid checks," Cheryl showed them.

"Hang on," Cyril checked his. "You forgot to sign it."

"Mine too!" Mallory snapped.

"Damn it!" Cheryl groaned as she took the checks back and signed them. "It was worth a shot. You'd be surprised how many people don't check their checks."

"Better," Cyril checked it over again.

"Much," Mallory nodded as she took her check.

"And," Ray spoke up. "You need to write a check for Pam and me for providing security!"

 _"Security?"_ Cheryl snapped. "You stole the party stuff, making my party coordinator having a hissy fit. You let me go onstage while drunk and not only let me humiliate my CEO of the car company, he's probably going to end up **arrested** for what I said! Then you let me drive a death trap car that set itself **on fire** and trashed an entire expo!"

Cheryl paused. "How does ten thousand each sound?"

"Sounds good to me," Ray grinned.

"Me too!" Pam grinned.

"Funny what she remembers when she chooses to," Mallory grumbled.

"Wait a minute!" Lana protested. "What about the rest of us?"

"She does have a point," Krieger admitted. "I can see Cyril not getting a check. He already got one. But Lana and I need money too!"

"Why should I give you money?" Cheryl pouted.

"Do you mind?" Lana asked Mallory.

"Knock yourself out," Mallory shrugged. "Or better yet, knock **her** out."

Lana then wrapped one of her hands around Cheryl's throat. "EEEEEE!" Cheryl squealed with glee. "OK…"

"Is it weird that I'm getting **used** to this?" Lana sighed.

"If would be weirder if you weren't," Mallory sighed.

"Thank you," Cheryl coughed before Lana released her. She then wrote the checks. "There."

"Wait a second," Lana checked. "You didn't sign these either!"

"I didn't think you'd check," Cheryl said innocently.

"After you tried the same trick **two seconds** ago?" Lana snapped. "Before our eyes?"

"You'd be surprised…" Cheryl giggled. Lana grabbed her throat again. "EEEE!"

"It is like a river of unending idiocy," Mallory groaned. "Stretching further than the Mississippi."

"That's better," Lana looked at the finished checks and handed one to Krieger.

"Now we should cash these suckers before The Glue Witch of the East decides to halt payment," Ray remarked.

"Yeah, I would do that," Cheryl laughed as she got out from behind the desk.

"On it," Pam sighed. She then punched Cheryl out cold. "There. She'll be out long enough for us to deposit our checks."

"And just to be on the safe side," Krieger took out a bag of groovy bears and put them on the floor next to her.

"That'll do it," Pam agreed.

"Then if that's all settled," Mallory picked up her purse. "I will go to the bank before visiting Sterling. I don't want to see or hear from any of you idiots until Monday. Or Tuesday. Or whenever I decide to come in."

"Take the whole week off," Pam called out to her.

"Believe me, Pam," Mallory groaned. "That idea is appealing to me more every day!" She left the building.

"Well that was lucky," Cyril sighed.

"Lucky you were able to frame Cheryl for the money you and Krieger stole!" Lana warned. "You're just lucky Cheryl couldn't remember that."

"The way she drinks and does drugs I'm amazed the woman barely remembers her name," Cyril said as he sat behind his desk. "Much less anything else. We're just lucky we're getting paid at all."

"Hooray for insane drug addicted alcoholic masochistic heiresses," Krieger quipped.

"Now," Lana said. "About our hours for our PI licenses…"

"What hours?" Cyril shouted. "For **what?** Screwing **everything** up **?"**

"I think ten hours is fair," Ray said.

"I won't give you idiots **ten minutes** for what happened yesterday!" Cyril shouted.

"Cyril, we deserve some hours!" Lana barked.

"Just for surviving what happened," Ray agreed.

"I'll give you guys **one hour** ," Cyril negotiated.

"Ten hours," Lana glared at him.

" **One** hour," Cyril stuck to his guns.

" **Ten** hours," Lana snapped, sticking to hers.

"Okay two hours," Cyril said. "That's more than fair!"

"No, it isn't," Ray said. "Ten hours!"

"Two!" Cyril said.

"Ten!" Ray snapped.

"Two!" Cyril persisted.

"Ten!" Lana and Ray said.

"Two!" Cyril protested.

"Ten!" Ray and Lana shouted.

"Do I hear three?" Pam called out. "Three! Anybody?"

"Ten!" Lana and Ray insisted.

"How about **five?** " Cyril sighed. "That way **no one** is happy!"

"That does sound reasonable," Pam admitted.

"Not reasonable enough," Lana said. "Ten hours Cyril!"

"Fair is fair!" Ray agreed.

"It's **not** fair and you **know it!"** Cyril shouted. "Billie Ray Jean!"

"This is so exciting," Krieger said to Pam. "I feel like we're in a boardroom of a powerful company. And they are the three CEOs going at it."

"Just like Dynasty!" Pam agreed.

"Then I call Alexis," Ray spoke up.

"Damn it!" Pam groaned.

"I always saw you as more of a Krystal anyway," Ray admitted.

"Aww," Pam said. "I so am!"

"I am not giving you ten hours!" Cyril snapped. "Why would I do that?"

"Because it's ten more hours than Archer has earned," Ray reasoned. "And when he finds out how far ahead of him we are he'll be pissed."

"Point taken," Cyril sighed as he wrote the hours down in his ledger.


End file.
